


For the Chance to Bring You Home

by AndiinaRaethTash



Series: When All We Had Was Eternity [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e15 Fire Across the Galaxy, Episode: s02e21-22 Twilight of the Apprentice, Episode: s03e03 The Antilles Extraction, Gen, Maul Is a Creep, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Episode: s02e21-22 Twilight of the Apprentice, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-07-09 09:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19885144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiinaRaethTash/pseuds/AndiinaRaethTash
Summary: Enouement: The bitter-sweetness of arriving at the future, seeing how things turned out, but not being able to tell your past self.A collection of one-shots in the 'When All We Had Was Eternity' universe. Do not read unless you've read the rest of the series.





	1. Scars

**Author's Note:**

> At the moment I've got the one-shots arranged in chronological order, but after the first four (the last of which isn't done) they'll be in the order that I write them in. I meant to post the fourth story with the first three, but I hit writer's block on it and hit a massive motivational boost to work on a different project. It will get done, but I have no idea when. I've got a dozen or so ideas of more one-shots, moments or episodes that I'd like to explore the differences with, but I have two other projects I'm working on, so I have no idea when I'll actually write them/post them.   
> I really do need to thank everyone who has supported me through this series. It has meant so much to me that you have enjoyed it, because I didn't think I could write worth a crap, but you have all been so supportive. Thank you so much!

Kanan gave a moan of relief when the Inquisitor left. He’d felt it the moment Ezra had entered the system, and he’d known they were coming, but every second the Inquisitor spent  _ not _ focusing on Kanan was a blessing. He’d been harsher on him this time around, maybe because he could sense that Kanan actually knew something about the greater Rebellion, or maybe because Kanan was presenting himself as a fully-fledged Jedi Knight rather than a disgraced ex-Padawan. Either way, his interrogation this time around had made the other seem like a picnic in comparison.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the sharp pain that flared in his side. The ribs Kallus had broken under Tarkin’s orders ached fiercely, and Kanan was not looking forward to the coming lightsaber duel. Gritting his teeth, he reinforced his shields, making sure that wherever on the ship Ezra was, he couldn’t feel the ache in Kanan’s muscles, the pounding in his head, or the burning in his throat from hours spent screaming or throwing up after the Inquisitor drugged him half out of his mind. He couldn’t distract his Padawan.

Exhaling slowly through his nose, he carefully reached out to find the familiar minds of his crew. Hera, Zeb, and Sabine were running around a level or two below him, the determination mixed with seemingly random spikes of fear surrounding them telling him that they were running into Stormtroopers, but there was no lingering pain, so none of them had been injured yet.

Ezra was only a few hundred yards away, crawling through the vents. He was mostly shielded, trying to hide his presence from the Inquisitor, but he’d left his end of their bond unguarded, allowing Kanan to track his progress and note his mental state. The teenager was focused, almost to the point of single-minded determination, but the moment he felt Kanan brush against his mind, he stopped moving.

_ ‘Kanan?’ _ The voice was faint, strained almost, and Kanan sent a wave of reassurance and pride, letting him know that he was okay and glad he’d come, but he didn’t try to respond. Instead, he focused on the feeling of his crew’s minds, reaching into the Force to bolster them.

It was strange to use battle meditation without actually being in battle. In the back of his mind, he decided it had probably been a good thing that he’d been in as many skirmishes as he had since he’d discovered the ability. Otherwise, he’d probably never be able to do this. Focusing a bit harder on the currents of the Force as they wove around his family, he carefully reached out to shape them subtly, bending them to protect the others.

He was so engrossed in his work that he jumped slightly when the door slid open. “Turns out you taught me pretty well,” Ezra said with a bit of a smirk.

Kanan grinned despite himself. “Thanks. Maybe I should have taught you more common sense, though, because assaulting a Star Destroyer with no backup was stupid.”

Ezra huffed slightly as he undid the straps holding Kanan down. “You’re welcome.” Kanan grunted in pain as he fell forward into Ezra’s arms, and the kid’s eyes widened. “Karabast… Can you walk?”

Kanan nodded, giving Ezra a half-hearted smile. “I guess I’ll have to. C’mon, we need to--” He cut himself off with a sharp hiss as he took a step forward and his legs buckled under him. Swearing softly, he tightened his grip on Ezra’s shoulder as he tried to stay upright.

“Yeah, no, we need to take a minute so you won’t fall over,” Ezra insisted as he carefully guided Kanan to sit on the steps into the cell. Kanan glared at him slightly, with almost no heat, before squeezing his eyes shut, trying to push away the pain. Ezra’s soft voice startled him slightly when he said, “I’m sorry.”

Kanan looked up, confused, and Ezra added, “For not getting here sooner. If I’d been faster, you wouldn’t be hurt--or at least, not as badly.”

Forcing a smile, Kanan reached over and tousled Ezra’s hair. “Not your fault, kiddo, you got here as fast as you could. Though,” Kanan winced slightly and closed his eyes again as his ribs throbbed, “I would argue that you shouldn’t have come at all.”

He opened his eyes when a hand started to gently rub his back. With a raised eyebrow, he shook his head. “We need to move, kid, the Inquisitor will be waiting for us. I can recover when we’re back aboard the  _ Ghost.”  _

Ezra pursed his lips, wrinkling his nose to let Kanan know he was not happy with that plan. “Fine,” was all he said aloud, though. Standing, he pulled Kanan to his feet again before handing him Ezra’s own lightsaber. “You should have this; you’re better with it than I am.”

Kanan wanted to protest--it was Ezra’s lightsaber, after all, and he was much better at it this time around than he had been at this point last time around, which Kanan was fairly certain was down to the fact that Kanan knew what he was doing--but the kid wasn’t wrong. Kanan was still the better duelist of the two.

Clutching Ezra’s lightsaber in one hand, he wrapped his arm around Ezra’s shoulder and took a deep breath before somehow stumbling up the stairs and through the Star Destroyer. Ezra didn’t complain about having to half-carry him, even though Kanan weighed twice as much as he did. Still, Kanan tried to take some of his own weight, knowing that if the Inquisitor was waiting for them (and he probably was) then at least one of them needed to be at the top of their game.

The only route out ran straight through the hyperdrive reactor. It couldn’t be helped, but as Kanan and Ezra limped through the door into the massive chamber to see the Inquisitor waiting for them, Kanan tightened his hold on Ezra’s shoulders for a moment. Ezra was good, a lot better than he’d been last time around, but Kanan didn’t want to put him in harm’s way if he could help it, so he gently pushed his Padawan behind him and ignited Ezra’s lightsaber.

The Inquisitor smiled cruelly as he pulled his weapon off his back and ignited it. Kanan took a beat to sink into the Force a bit further, boosting his connection with his family, before charging the Inquisitor. The Pau'an’s smile widened before faltering as Kanan switched off his blade and quickly firing off a series of stun blasts. The Inquisitor absorbed them on his red blade, but by the time he had, Kanan was on top of him. He lashed out with a couple of strong attacks before the Inquisitor recovered and began slicing at him, forcing Kanan to retreat as the Inquisitor kicked out twice in rapid succession.

Kanan switched back to blasterbolts to give himself some breathing room as he charged the Inquisitor again. He blocked and parried a few more attacks before having to duck as the Inquisitor vaulted over him, striking downwards as he did. Kanan was anticipating it, though, and deflected the downwards attack before lashing out quick as a viper and scoring a hit on the Inquisitor’s side. The Inquisitor hissed, clutching his side. He stared at Kanan for a heartbeat, disbelief in his eyes before attacking again. After three powerful hits that made Kanan’s arms shake and his ribs ache, they locked sabers, and Kanan met the Inquisitor’s gold and red eyes, their noses inches apart.

A second later, the sound of another saber igniting drew the Inquisitor’s attention, and he turned to see Ezra holding Kanan’s lightsaber, a determined gleam in his eyes. With a smile, the Inquisitor shoved Kanan away, unfolding his hilt and igniting his second blade. 

“At last. A fight that might be worthy of my attention,” the Inquisitor drawled.

Kanan met Ezra’s eyes, and with a shared smirk, they attacked.

As the Inquisitor moved to block Kanan’s attack, Ezra dropped low, swinging his lightsaber and following through by sweeping his foot in a low kick. Both hits landed on the Inquisitor’s leg, eliciting a cry of pain and knocking the Inquisitor off-balance. With a snarl he whirled on Ezra, swinging downwards before reversing the direction of his strike and trying to slash up at the boy.

Key word there was  _ trying.  _ Kanan intercepted his blade as he tried to swing, shoving his blade-- and as a consequence, the Inquisitor-- to the side. Knocked off balance, the Inquisitor whipped back around to focus on Kanan, backhanding him with his free hand as he turned.

Kanan stumbled back a few paces, eyes watering from the hit. As he went reeling, Ezra attacked again, stabbing at the Inquisitor’s turned back only to go sliding when the Inquisitor shoved him backwards with the Force. Kanan lunged forward, trying to pull the Inquisitor’s attention away from his student, only to get shoved back as well.

Kanan watched as Ezra pushed himself up to his feet, dread running through his veins as the Inquisitor drew back his arm.  _ It’ll be okay,  _ Kanan told himself,  _ Ezra can block it.  _ But as the red blades went spinning directly towards Ezra, Kanan felt fear freeze his heart as the boy met his eyes and just…  _ hesitated _ a moment too long before batting the ‘saber away.

With a scream, Ezra fell, dropping Kanan’s ‘saber on the walkway as he plummeted to the level below.

_ ”Ezra!” _ Kanan screamed after him, reaching out towards his fallen student as if he could reach him. But Ezra’s signature in the Force, his presence on the other side of the bond, was muted, faint. The boy was unconscious, couldn’t hear him, couldn’t  _ defend  _ himself if Kanan failed here.

Taking a quick moment to calm his racing heart and push his fear out into the Force, Kanan pushed himself up onto his feet, glaring murderously at the Inquisitor, who was smirking at him like he was enjoying his pain-- and he probably was.

Kanan grit out, “That was a mistake,” before charging the Inquisitor, giving him no time to respond. Leaping over his head, Kanan pressed back against the Inquisitor’s blade as he pulled his lightsaber from where Ezra had dropped it, keeping the Inquisitor’s blade back so he could score another hit, this time on the Inquisitor’s back.

With a scream of fury, the Inquisitor whirled on him, lashing out in a series of intricate slashes and stabs, trying to get through Kanan’s defense, but with two ‘sabers, Kanan was easily able to deflect every strike, face grim as he waited for the Inquisitor to wear himself out on Kanan’s near-flawless defense. 

When the Inquisitor finally faltered--and it was a small thing, a quick stumble that he corrected instantly--Kanan suddenly switched tactics. As the Inquisitor swept his ‘saber in front of him, Kanan leapt upwards nimbly to avoid the blade, shoving the Inquisitor back with a shockwave when he came down. As the Inquisitor stumbled, Kanan pressed the attack, striking quickly with one ‘saber while trying to hold off the Inquisitor’s with the other. As the Inquisitor gave ground, using the Force to jump back while spinning his blades in front of him, Kanan switched Ezra’s ‘saber to blaster mode, taking a few potshots at the Inquisitor as he chased him back along the walkway.

It was a familiar rhythm, a dance that his body knew the steps to even though his mind didn’t. The aching burn in his muscles disappeared; he could easily ignore the stabbing pain in his side even as he panted, his ribs didn’t seem to scream in agony every time he moved. There was no pain, no fear, just serenity.

Just the Force.

He could feel the currents of the Force shifting around him as he nimbly dodged and struck, pressing the Inquisitor back through one of the consoles that controlled and monitored the reactor, then further until the Inquisitor's heels were against the edge of the walkway and he had nowhere else to retreat.

Taking a quick moment to catch his breath, Kanan practically snarled at the Inquisitor, "You were right; I was a coward, but I chose to push on despite my fears. If you won't let go of yours, what does that make you?"

The Inquisitor's eyes widened as Kanan lunged forward, catching the spinning hilt of the Inquisitor's lightsaber with both of his blades and slicing it cleanly in two. The still ignited blades flew out of the Inquisitor's hands, plummeting down into the reactor core, causing it to erupt in powerful discharges that knocked the Inquisitor off of his feet. As the Inquisitor hung onto the edge of the walkway by his fingers alone, Kanan strode forward, staring down at the Pau'an with a mixture of disgust and sympathy. This had once been a Jedi Knight, the same as himself, but, oh, how far he'd fallen. As Kanan regarded him for what would hopefully be the last time, the Inquisitor stared back up at him.

"You have no idea what you've unleashed here today," he said, and Kanan had to resist the urge to snort. "There are some things far more frightening than death."

"I know," Kanan said softly as the Inquisitor let go and fell into the fiery chaos beneath them. Sheathing both lightsabers, he attached them to his belt before turning to go find Ezra.

______

Ezra came to with a groan. He'd landed on his shoulder and hit his head pretty hard, so both were aching. The fact that someone was calling his name and wouldn't shut up wasn't helping the latter.

With a grimace, he gently probed the two new, familiar scars on his cheek before reaching down and unclipping his comlink, from which Hera's increasingly panicked voice was calling his name. "I'm here," he managed, bracing a hand against his head as he sat up. He wished he hadn't had to get hurt this time, but if he hadn't, Kanan wouldn't have been able to push through and defeat the Inquisitor. Well, he might have, but Ezra wasn't about to chance it. Besides, now he wouldn't look so young. Scars had a way of aging people.

_ "Thank the Force. Where are you? Do you have Kanan? And is he alright?" _

Ezra pushed himself up onto his feet, looking up at the walkway he'd fallen from as the ship around him shuddered. "We're in the reactor core." As he looked up, he realized with a thrill of fear that he couldn't see Kanan. Last time, Kanan had only been about halfway through his duel with the Inquisitor when Ezra had woken up, but now he was nowhere to be found. "I had him a minute ago, the Inquisitor showed up. We had to fight him off, and I musta gotten knocked out. I'll get back to you when I find him." With that he shut off his comlink and reattached it to his belt, stumbling slightly as a secondary explosion shook the ship.

As he tried to regain his footing, he heard a voice above him call out, "Ezra!" Looking up, he felt a wave of relief sweep through him as he saw Kanan, eyes bright with worry and posture tense.

"Kanan!" He called back. "You okay?"

"Am I--" Kanan cut himself off, shaking his head in disbelief. "Just get up here!"

Ezra nodded and launched himself into the air, using the Force to give himself enough height to grab the edge of the walkway. Kanan grabbed his wrist and pulled him up, placing his hands on his shoulders and giving him a hasty once-over once he had both his feet on the walkway. He tutted slightly when he saw the burns on Ezra's cheek, and Ezra had to resist the urge to laugh. Kanan was such a mother hen about when he or Sabine got hurt. He worried about Hera and Zeb, too, but they were adults and could take care of themselves, but when one of the teenagers got hurt, Kanan would not stop fussing.

"We'll have to get bacta on that later. Here," Kanan said, handing him his lightsaber. "We need to go."

Ezra nodded, hooking the 'saber on his belt as he followed Kanan out of the reactor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Twilight of the Apprentice.

The bed above him didn’t creak.

Zeb glared through the darkness at the underside of the bunk. He was exhausted; he’d been assigned a recon mission on Ord Mantell a few days before to assess the defenses of an Imperial outpost there so that a team could raid supplies there later. He’d gotten back to Chopper Base only a few hours before, had collapsed in his bunk in the eerily quiet  _ Ghost _ after taking a quick sonic shower. But now, exhausted though he was, he couldn’t sleep.

Because the bed above him wasn’t creaking.

Zeb’s sensitive ears could pick up every sound on the  _ Ghost _ , and a few from the surrounding base. The slight hum of electronics, powered on even though the engines weren’t, the squeak of the couch in the common room as Sabine shifted around as she read through a report-- or maybe a holonovel-- on her datapad, the rattling noise of Chopper’s wheels as he rolled around the ship, slowly going about his chores, even the low murmur of Kanan and Hera’s voices as they quietly discussed something in Kanan’s room-- probably Kanan’s nightmares-- they were all audible in the otherwise quiet ship. The base around them was mostly quiet, as well; this late into the night, nearly everyone was asleep.

Everyone except the crew of the  _ Ghost _ .

The last few weeks, every single one of them had developed insomnia. Sabine worked late into the night on reports, or dug through intercepted Imperial intelligence to find some trace of hope, or trained until she collapsed. Chopper was always secluded somewhere, and whenever Zeb or the others stumbled upon him, he seemed to be in low-power mode. Even when he did move around, it was lethargic, as if even being active was draining his battery completely, and his normal insults and snarky replies in binary had turned into mournful beeps and warbles. Zeb wasn’t sure Hera ever even tried to sleep any more; she was up when he went to bed and either up again or still up when he woke up. She never cracked or showed her exhaustion, physical or mental, except when Kanan couldn’t sleep. Because when Kanan couldn’t sleep, none of them could.

His nightmares woke the whole crew. It’d start off with whimpers, pitiful broken sounds that became moans of pain before turning into heart-wrenching screams for someone who couldn’t hear him. The nights he had them, Zeb and Sabine would wait in the common room while Hera went into Kanan’s room and held him while he broke down. A few times, Zeb and Sabine had fallen asleep waiting for Hera to tell them that Kanan was okay, but usually they stayed up until their Captain ordered them to go to bed.

Kanan never talked about those nights, the dreams that woke him up sobbing, but he didn’t need to. They all knew what he saw. When Zeb had first joined the crew, Hera had warned him about Kanan’s night terrors. A few times, he’d woken up to the Jedi calling for someone who Zeb later learned had been his Master. Those nightmares died out by the time the latest member of the crew had joined, but now, after the mission a few weeks ago, they had resurfaced, worse than before, and making him call for his Padawan instead of his Master.

Kanan never told them what happened on Malachor. It was Ahsoka who’d explained, in faltering sentences and a broken voice, what had happened. It had been Ahsoka who’d given them the only piece of their missing crewmember they had left, a few twisted pieces of metal and a twinkling blue crystal whose light seemed to dance merrily despite the horror and grief they all felt the moment they saw it.

Zeb growled under his breath and rolled over, turning to face the wall. It wasn’t karking  _ fair _ . One mission, one bad choice, one small mistake, and suddenly the Spectres’ world had come grinding to a halt. And there wasn’t even someone to blame for it. The way Ahsoka told it, it had been  _ his _ choice to split up,  _ him _ who insisted that the former Sith Lord go with him. And he’d paid for it by losing his life.

No, Zeb mentally corrected himself, he hadn’t lost his life. It had been the Spectres who’d lost it. They’d lost the energy he had brought from his first lively introduction to the crew. They’d lost the hope he’d brought with his unshakeable faith that things would work out. And they’d all lost the ability to sleep at night. 

Zeb huffed as he rolled over again. The ship’s engine could be running at full power, they could be in the middle of a dogfight with a dozen TIE-fighters, there could be explosions all around them, and it would still be too quiet.

Because the damn bed above him wasn’t creaking.

Sabine still had hope. She insisted that there was a possibility he was still alive. After all, they hadn’t found a body, so there was no proof.

She was wrong, though. There was proof. There was proof in the hopelessness in Ahsoka’s eyes when Sabine brought it up, there was proof in Kanan’s slumped, weary posture, and there was proof in the deadness of their Jedi’s gaze. Sabine hadn’t been there when Kanan had explained what Force-bonds were; she hadn’t heard what Kanan had said about the other feeling it when the one they shared the bond with died. So Zeb knew, in his heart of hearts, that he was dead. And he was pretty sure Sabine did, too.

He had known they weren’t invincible. Despite their numerous lucky escapes, the rescues just in the nick of time, he’d understood that they were human-- or, well, mortal. Even the Jedi weren’t infallible. There had always been a chance that there would be that one mission they didn’t all walk away from. Zeb had just hoped-- selfishly, he supposed-- that he would be the first to go; as hard as that would be for everyone else, he was older than all the others. He would have done his duty to his people, to his family, if he had died protecting them. And he would have been fine with that.

But he wasn’t the first one to go. It had been one of the kids, one of the people he was supposed to protect with his life, one of the people who still had their whole lives in front of them. So he could only pray that he’d be the next to go, instead.

After all, he’d promised to swap war stories when they saw each other again, and he wasn’t about to break his promise.

Zeb sighed and closed his eyes, burrowing a little further into his bed. It was late. Dawn was probably only a few hours away, and he needed to be rested. He would most likely be assigned another mission tomorrow, and even if he wanted to be the next one to go, he wasn’t suicidal or stupid. When he went, it would be in defense of what was left of his family, and if he was going to protect them, they needed him at his best. So sleep, that ever-elusive escape, was needed. Desperately.

But the bed above him wasn’t creaking.

This was why he’d spent the majority of the last few weeks crashing on the couch in the common room or on a bedroll in Sabine’s room. No one wanted to sleep in a room with a ghost.

And Ezra’s seemed to haunt him every time he closed his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after A New Hope.

“Lieutenant Skywalker!” 

Luke turned to see a middle-aged man jogging towards him. Frowning, he glanced over at Han, who shrugged. Pressing his lips together, Luke turned back to the approaching man, who panted as he came to a stop in front of him.

“Lieutenant, you’re to report-- report to the  _ Twilight’s Shadow _ for evac, sir.”

Luke’s frown deepened. “I’m supposed to take the  _ Falcon  _ to evacuate.” Behind him, Han was now frowning, too, crossing his arms as he glared at the man as if he had insulted Han’s precious ship.

The man just shook his head as he gasped for breath. “Orders changed, sir. Princess Organa cleared it; General Tano has requested that you accompany her.”

Luke huffed and turned back to Han, giving his friend a look that said  _ ‘can you believe this?’ _ Han just shrugged again.

“Hey, if those are your orders, I’d follow ‘em. Wouldn’t want her Worship to get annoyed at you.” Han said with a wry grin as he resumed loading up the  _ Falcon _ . Luke rolled his eyes and grabbed the small satchel of standard-issue clothing he’d been given before following the man to a shuttle that ferried him up to a Corvette in orbit that he could only assume was the  _ Twilight’s Shadow _ . The man who’d been escorting him didn’t board the ship, just pointed him in the direction of the bridge.

Luke didn’t actually make it that far. About two hallways down, something at the edge of his mind snagged his attention. It was strange, a faint pulling sensation that reminded him of the foreign instinct that had guided his aim when he’d blown up the Death Star. Turning towards where the pull was leading him, he frowned, debating whether or not to ignore it and carry on to the bridge like he’d been told. However, his curiosity won out and he followed the tug to a seemingly random door in a quiet hallway.

Luke hesitated for a moment before hitting the buzzer. Instantly the door slid open, though no one was there to greet him. Luke raised an eyebrow, looking around to see who’d opened it. When he didn’t notice anyone, he dropped a hand to the blaster on his thigh, which still felt foreign, before cautiously entering the room. Rebel vessel or not, he had a funny feeling that he wasn’t sure he liked.

“Hello?” He called out, shuddering slightly as a strange warmth washed over him. 

No, not strange. He’d felt it before, when he had been training with Ben. It had just been for a moment then, but now it surrounded him, singing faintly, and Luke found himself relaxing. This thing, whatever it was, was safe. His hand fell from his blaster as he stepped further into the room.

It was a mostly bare bunk, with a single bed against the back wall and a desk pushed up against the wall to his right. A door on that same wall probably led to the ‘fresher, but at first glance, Luke didn’t see anyone inside.

That was why he jumped when the voice came from his left. “I’m glad you came so quickly.”

Luke whirled around to see a slender Togruta female kneeling on a cushion next to the door. With her eyes still closed, she gestured to the floor in front of her. “Please, sit.”

As he did, she opened her blue eyes, fixing him with a strange look that became a wistful smile. “I’m sorry to drag you away from your friends, Lieutenant. I understand you intended to evacuate with them.”

Luke nodded hesitantly. “It’s fine. If you have an assignment for me, sir, that takes precedence.” He tried not to let the eagerness creep into his voice, but he was finally here! In the Rebellion! The possibility of going on a mission to stick it to the Empire was too exciting for him to act totally calm about.

The Togruta’s smile widened. “No, unfortunately, this is not an assignment.” Luke deflated slightly and she laughed. At his questioning look, she said, “You remind me of your father.”

Instantly he straightened. “You knew my father?” He exclaimed, wondering if she’d known Ben, too.

“Of course,” the Togruta shifted so that she was no longer sitting on her feet. “I fought alongside him during the Clone Wars. He taught me the way Master Kenobi taught him.”

“So you’re a Jedi?”

“I was,” she replied. “I left the Order shortly before the war ended. Which might have been the reason I survived.” She stared off into the distance for a moment, her eyes unfocused, and Luke could tell that her mind was in a different place, at a different time. After a moment, she blinked. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself. I’m Ahsoka Tano.”

“Luke Skywalker,” he replied, then stopped and flushed in embarrassment. “But you already knew that.”

“I did,” Ahsoka said with a gentle smile. “I also know that Master Obi-wan offered to teach you the ways of the Jedi.”

“How did you…?” Luke trailed off.

Ahsoka pointed at the lightsaber hilt on his belt. “I doubt he would have given you that if he wasn’t confident you wouldn’t chop your own arm off. He already had to deal with one Skywalker missing an arm.”

“My father was missing an arm?” Luke asked incredulously, unconsciously resting his hand on the hilt.

Ahsoka laughed. “Yup! His first duel with a Sith, he got it cut off above the elbow. That was before I met him, and I didn’t know about it at first. Of course there were rumors among the other Initiates, but most of the rumors the others spread were outlandish enough that I ignored almost all of them. So when he crushed a datapad with one hand in annoyance, I just about had a heart attack.”

Luke laughed, trying to imagine the scene. Somehow, his father, larger than life, managed to scare a younger version of the serene woman in front of him. Shaking his head, he asked, “What was he like?”

With a soft sigh, Ahsoka sat back. “Kind,” she said after a moment’s consideration. “Stubborn. Reckless. Faithful to a fault. He never could sit still. Protective to the point that I couldn’t be out of contact for more than a rotation or so or he’d panic and call me, even if I was in the middle of a mission where I was supposed to be radio-silent, which was annoying, but…”

As she trailed off, Luke leaned forward slightly. “Could you…” He shut his mouth, pursing his lips. After a beat, he managed, “Would you teach me? Ben wasn’t able to teach me much, and you’re the only other person I know of that’s been trained, so…” He trailed off, embarrassed. 

Ahsoka gave him a soft smile. “Unfortunately, I can’t. As I said, I’m not a Jedi, so I don’t think I could teach you to be one. And you are meant to be a Jedi, Luke. It’s in your blood.”

As he looked down at the ground, disappointed, she stood, stretching. “Back to the matter of evacuating, I’m sorry to tell you that we won’t be meeting up with your friends immediately.” As Luke stood, watching her in open confusion, Ahsoka picked up a datapad that had been resting on the desk. “The rest of the Rebellion is meeting at a preselected point along a hyperspace route. We--” she flipped the datapad over in her hands to show him the planet displayed on it “--are going to Lothal.”

“Why Lothal?” Luke asked as he took the datapad, skimming through the information on it. “Isn’t that just a backwater planet in the middle of nowhere?”

Ahsoka smirked slightly. “It was. But a year ago, it became one of the few planets to successfully drive the Empire off of it.”

“Well, if the Empire’s not a problem, why are we going there?”

“Because it’s now home to the only other surviving Jedi that I know of.” Ahsoka answered, taking the datapad back from Luke and setting it on the desk.

“Another Jedi? What’s his name?”

“ _ Their  _ names.” Ahsoka corrected with a smile. “Jedi is both singular and plural. There are two Masters, Depa Bilaba and Kanan Jarrus, and a Knight, known as Wraith.” At Luke’s quizzical look, she gave a wry smile. “His real name is classified, but since you’re going to be meeting them, there’s a good chance you’ll learn it. They’ve offered to pass on some of their knowledge.”

Luke nodded, shifting back on his feet. “How long till we get there?”

“A couple of days. Which should give me plenty of time to regale you with stories of your father during the war. You know, he wasn’t much older than you when we met…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I did the research and according to Wookieepedia (which is a girl's best friend, let me tell you) Luke was promoted to a lieutenant sometime after A New Hope. Secondly, the fourth story that I've got partially written is sort of like a part two of this, where Luke actually meets the Spectres. Again, it'll be up whenever I finish it. Sorry, but writer's block is a thing that happens. And it sucks.


	4. Sightless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this is neither part of the series I'm supposed to be working on, nor the part I said I would write next. All I can say is, I got inspired and have been writing this for about two weeks now. It's technically a two-shot, but who cares? The second part should be out Saturday, I'm working on the last bit now. I'll just need a couple days to polish it up a bit.  
> Also, I feel like I should put a warning here. There's some relatively graphic descriptions of an injury, a bit of blood, and vomiting. So, like, just be aware.

Ezra paused at the landing to look down at Kanan and Ahsoka, who were fighting off the Fifth and Eighth Brothers. It looked like it was going better than it had last time around--the Eighth Brother’s lightsaber was nowhere to be seen, he was just dodging Ahsoka’s ‘sabers at this point--but Ezra still let himself check on Kanan. He wasn’t moving like he was hurt, and Force willing, he would walk away from this with his sight intact this time. Ezra let his attention turn to the person beside him.

Maul was staring up at the enormous cavern’s ceiling, a calculating look on his face. Ezra followed his gaze, but didn’t see anything out of place. He could, however, feel a presence approaching the planet, cold and empty but writhing with hate and pain. Vader.

Another reason to make sure Maul came with him; he most certainly couldn’t beat Vader on his own, even with the additional four years of experience he had this time around.

“C’mon,” Ezra said, backing away from the edge, toward the top of the temple. “We need to get going.”

Maul started, then looked down at him. His gold and red eyes looked almost hungry as he stared back at Ezra. “Yes,” he said quietly, and Ezra fought the shudder that ran up his spine every time he heard his deceptively soft voice. “Yes, we must get to the top. I just wonder… if it would not be wiser for me to assist your friends.”

“They’ve got it,” Ezra said dismissively, wrapping his hand around the holocron in the pouch on his belt. “We need to get this up there, before Vader gets here.”

He turned his back on Maul despite every instinct telling him not to, breaking into a run as they finally got to the final level of the temple, slowing slightly when he glanced behind him to see Maul. The old Sith Lord was looking round the chamber appreciatively, like he could feel the darkness that pulsed through the building and  _ liked _ it. He probably did. The Sith was crazy, after all. 

As he got closer to the obelisk in the center of the temple, Ezra pulled the holocron out, jumping slightly when Maul’s hand landed on his shoulder. Glancing back--and trying not to curl his lip at the hungry expression on Maul’s face--he lifted the holocron, using the Force to let it come to rest between the two uprights. The clap of thunder that rang out shook him, but he was expecting it, so he kept his feet.

Unsure of what to do next--he’d expected Vader to be here by now--he glanced back at Maul, only for his eyes to widen in surprise because Maul’s lightsaber was in his hands. Vader wasn’t there yet, so what was he doing--

Maul ignited his ‘saber and  _ moved, _ and all thought about what Maul was doing fled Ezra’s mind as the first blade slashed his ‘saber in half. It flew out of his hands, propelled by the Force, but Ezra couldn’t see where it landed because Maul’s other blade was moving--

Pain. Awful, burning, nauseating agony that made him want to curl in on himself. Instantly, he clamped a hand over his eyes, where Maul had struck, as an inhuman scream tore from his throat. Falling to his knees, he tried desperately to reach out with the Force, wanting to warn Kanan about Maul, wanting his Master to send him comfort like he always did when he was hurt, but all he managed to do was broadcast his pain before cold metal clamped around his arm and suddenly Kanan was just... gone.

With another scream, Ezra lashed out, trying to kick or punch Maul, trying to keep him away, but Maul just grabbed him from behind. Ezra hadn’t even been able to tell where he had been because he couldn’t open his eyes but that didn’t matter because Kanan was gone again and he wasn’t supposed to be gone  _ he was supposed to live _ and Maul was holding him, his breath hot against Ezra’s neck as he hissed in his ear but Ezra didn’t care what he was saying because Kanan was  _ gone. _

Writhing in Maul’s grasp, he tried to fight back, only to be pinned in place by a solid steel grip that encompassed his entire body. It had to be the Force, but Ezra couldn’t feel it. He could always feel when someone used the Force, why couldn’t he--

Realization slammed into him when he realised that the awful emptiness inside him wasn’t the absence of Kanan’s presence in his mind; it was the complete and utter lack of the Force. It was just... gone. With the realization, Ezra almost went limp with relief. Kanan was alive. He wasn’t dead, Ezra just couldn’t feel him. 

Maul took his limpness as a sign of submission, though, and dragged Ezra to his feet, letting go of his Force hold on Ezra’s body. Ezra instantly started fighting again, screaming, “Kanan!  _ Kanan!”  _ as he scratched and clawed at Maul, finally dropping his hand from his ruined eyes.

Maul shook him like a rag doll. “Quiet!” He hissed, then turned to the holocron, yelling, “Detonate, and destroy everything!”

No. Oh, Force, no, the explosion last time had been  _ devastating _ . If it was targeted this time, it could be worse. Ezra fought harder, trying everything from headbutting Maul in the nose to kicking him in the leg, but all he got in return was an aching head and a throbbing foot. 

“Be still!” Maul yelled, then grabbed his hand and reached up with it. What was he...? Ezra’s hand closed around the familiar pyramid-shaped object and he understood. No, no, that’s just going to make it worse. That didn’t stop Maul, who forced him to tug the holocron out of the obelisk. 

Ezra could feel the change in the air immediately, energy surging through the temple as it built all too quickly to a crescendo. Crackling filled his ears, making the hair on his arms stand up on end. Maul changed his hold on him so that he was only holding him by his arm, his grip like durasteel as he tugged him away.

Ezra tried to pull away, he tried to fight, but Maul clearly had no patience. He backhanded Ezra across the face, and instantly Ezra’s knees buckled as pain flared through the burn across his eyes. He fell with a strangled cry, clamping his hand over his eyes again as his pulse roared in his ears. He couldn’t stand up, the pain making his head spin as the floor shook underneath him.

Maul yanked him up, and his foot caught on  _ something, _ he couldn’t see what, and he fell again, dizzy with no horizon to orient himself to.This time, when Maul hauled him up, he threw him over his shoulder, hauling him like a sack of grain.

Ezra wanted to fight back, he knew he needed to. He couldn't let Maul take him, but he'd been teetering on the edge of consciousness for too long, and as Maul hurried away from the temple, Ezra resigned himself to temporary captivity. Dimly, he heard a door hissing as the seal broke, and a few seconds later he felt hard, cold metal beneath him as Maul set him down, but as they took off and an explosion roared out behind them, Ezra let himself finally fall unconscious.

**_______**

Ezra looked up from his bed as the door to his cell hissed open, even though it was useless. He'd had a bandage across his eyes since he'd woken up here, wherever here was, so he couldn't see anything. Not that it would matter. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to see even without the bandage.

Metallic footsteps entered his cell, and Ezra scowled. "What do you want?" He demanded, turning his head to where he was fairly certain Maul was. Kanan had always made turning to face people look easy, but he'd been using the Force to do it. Maul still hadn't removed the cuff that had cut off Ezra's connection to the Force, so he had no way of knowing where in the room Maul was.

A sigh a few feet in front of him told him. "I had hoped that you would have realized by now, Apprentice."

"I'm not your apprentice. I'm Kanan's, and that's not going to change just because you kidnapped me. They'll find me."

It was a faint hope, and he knew it. He'd been here for at least three weeks, although his math was a bit screwy because he'd been unconscious for Force knows how long between Malachor and waking up in this cell. If they were going to find him, he should have heard something by now.

A small chuckle made the hair on the back of Ezra's neck stand on end. "I find it... amusing that you actually believe they are even looking for you."

"They are." They had to be. "They can put two and two together and realize you were the one to take me. They'll never stop hunting you down. If they were willing to go toe to toe with the Empire to rescue one of us, they're going to be eager to get rid of you."

Another metallic step, and a hand landed on his knee. Ezra twitched, but didn't slap the hand away. That'd just make Maul lash out, and right now Ezra needed to heal without getting hurt even more. "Oh, Ezra," Maul crooned softly, and Ezra had to try not to throw up. "They don't think I kidnapped you. They think I killed you."

The air left Ezra's lungs like he'd just stepped into a vacuum. That wasn't possible. They wouldn't just give up on him like that, they were all too stubborn to roll over and accept that. His mouth was bone-dry as he managed, "You're lying."

Maul laughed, the sound echoing eerily in the bare room. "Oh, believe me, Ezra, I wish I was. I would greatly enjoy tormenting your little crew with what I could be doing to you--" Ezra shuddered, jerking back as Maul caressed his face "--but I am not lying. Did you think the cuff just cuts you off from the Force? It cuts the Force off from you."

Stomach sinking, Ezra unconsciously grabbed the cuff, tugging on it as Maul continued. "The last thing your Master felt from you was your pain and fear before you were simply gone. I wonder if the knowledge that he could not save his Padawan lets him sleep at night. I doubt it."

Ezra wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and rage and hit something, preferable Maul. Repeatedly. With a lightsaber. Because Kanan already had enough guilt on his plate. He'd never really gotten over the death of his Master, but if he now thought Ezra was dead too, that would be a hundred times worse. His eyes burned as he tried to cry, but he physically couldn't anymore, his tear ducts destroyed by the person sitting in front of him.

"I'll never be what you want." Ezra's voice sounded hollow, even in his own ears. "I am a Jedi. Even if they aren't looking for me, that won't change. I won't change."

"Pretty words," Maul said, suddenly moving out of Ezra's space. "But courage won't save you now. Only the Dark Side and its power can protect you from me."

Ezra scoffed weakly. "If you're trying to get me to Fall to protect myself, you're failing miserably."

"Then I will try other means," Maul said. Ezra jumped as a small something landed in his lap. Carefully picking it up, Ezra ran his hand over it. The surface crinkled beneath his fingertips and Ezra realized it was a ration bar. "Eat," Maul commanded.

Ezra just set the bar to the side. "I'll eat when I'm hungry."

Maul growled, and Ezra flinched as the cyborg strode across the room, his footsteps slamming against the ground. Maul forced the bar into his hands, his stinking breath hot on Ezra's face as he hissed, "You will eat now!" Before Ezra could respond, Maul whirled around and left the room.

Ezra exhaled slowly, trying to get his heart, which was now racing from Maul's intimidating exit, to slow down to a reasonable pace. Slowly, he tore open the packaging off of the bar and forced himself to take a small bite. It tasted like rubber, with the same consistency, but he forced himself to chew and swallow, knowing full well what Maul was capable when upset. Give him the small victories on things like this, where Ezra would have had to eat anyway. But he was never giving in and using the Dark Side.

As he took another bite, he turned over what Maul had said in his head, trying to keep his breathing steady. He had known Maul wanted him as an apprentice--old news, really--but he hadn't realized exactly what the band on his arm had done. He thought it had just made him no longer able to access the Force, but if Maul was telling the truth--and that was a big if-- then Kanan had actually thought he’d felt him die. They weren't coming for him. They didn't even know he was alive.

It hit him out of the blue. Kanan wasn't the only one who thought he was dead. He would have told Hera, Sabine, Zeb... everyone. In his mind's eye, Ezra could see Hera's reaction to Kanan and Ezra’s return from Malachor the first time around. How much worse must it have been this time around, thinking he was dead? How long would they wait before they accepted it? Obviously they didn't have a body, so how quickly would they stop denying it? He hoped they didn't just roll over and take it--some of them, at least, had to still be looking, but without the foreknowledge he had, he doubted they'd know where to even begin looking.

Hell, even with his foreknowledge, he had no idea where he was. Fat lot of good it did him. With things now going completely off the script, his knowledge of the future was going to become mostly useless. Only events he had absolutely no control over would stay the same.

Sighing, he forced himself to swallow, wondering if he shouldn't just tell someone when he got back. Probably Kanan. His Master--who had basically become his father over the last 2 to 6 years, depending on your count--always had the right answer, and could probably help him sort through the mess time-traveling had created in his head. Of course, he needed to actually get back, first.

He absentmindedly pulled at the cuff. There wasn't a noticeable seam or a lock he could pick; it was stuck on his arm until Maul decided to take it off. With it still on, he knew he couldn't escape. He was good, but not that good. He might be able to pick a few locks, and if he had his sight he might be able to find his way out of whatever facility Maul had appropriated, but blind and cut off from the Force? He might get about two hallways down, and that would show his hand.

He needed to wait until Maul removed the cuff before he tried anything. Actually, he needed to wait until he trusted himself to navigate correctly using Force sight. He had vague memories of Kanan teaching him something about using the Force to check his surroundings, but he didn't quite remember which timeline that had been in or what exactly Kanan had said about it. He'd have to figure it out, though, because there was no way his eyesight was coming back.

At the thought, he raised a shaking hand and slowly removed the bandage. The cell’s stale air stung against the raw edges of the wound. His hand trembled as he carefully brushed his sensitive fingerprints over the jagged bumps and valleys that made up the scar tissue. Freezing as his hand suddenly found a warm, wet spot by his left eye, he quickly pulled his hand away. He wasn’t quite sure if the sticky fluid on his fingertips was blood or pus leaking from a crack in his burnt skin. All he knew was that the ration bar he'd eaten was about to make a reappearance.

Leaning over the side of the bed, he vomited, gagging as his throat burned. Instantly, he could smell it, and he sat back quickly, wanting to get away from the overpowering stench. Clenching his jaw with a whimper, he mentally cursed Maul, the Sith, and the situation in general. But there was nothing he could do--yet. He'd have to bide his time, wait for an opening.... and hope Kanan wasn't too mad at him for giving up so easily.

_______

Maul visited him every day, usually to drop off meals or fresh bandages for his eyes. Even if he didn’t vaguely threaten him or explicitly try to convince him to turn to the Dark Side, Ezra knew he was just waiting until Ezra had recovered enough to start training. Sure enough, maybe twelve weeks after Ezra had woken up, Maul came into the room and threw something at him.

“Ow,” Ezra muttered as he carefully picked up the metallic object that had hit him in the knee. Turning the cylinder over in his hand, he carefully held it away from his body as he found a button. When he pressed it, a familiar  _ snap-hiss _ rang through the cell, and Ezra looked up, unimpressed, at where he was pretty sure Maul was. “Really? You couldn’t have left my lightsaber intact? You know it functioned as a blaster, too.”

Maul’s equally unimpressed sigh came about a foot to the left of where Ezra had thought he’d been. “A Jedi’s lightsaber would not have been appropriate for a Sith apprentice. This one once served a powerful Sith; it will serve you better than that pile of scrap.”

Ezra’s stomach turned as he switched the blade--the  _ red  _ blade--off. Clenching his jaw, he hurled the ‘saber back at Maul, trying not to grin smugly when he heard Maul’s hiss of pain as the ‘saber struck him. “It’s only a pile of scrap because you cut it in half. And a Jedi’s lightsaber is perfectly appropriate for a Jedi, which, you know, I am.”

“A Jedi who has not completed his training.”

“Yeah, because you kidnapped me before my Master could finish my training.” 

The sudden footsteps only gave him enough warning for him to tense before a slap to the face made him cry out. “He is not your Master anymore!” Maul spat in his face, and Ezra recoiled, scrambling back on his bed to try to get away from the crazed Zabrak. “I am your Master, and you will address me as such!”

Ezra winced as Maul grabbed his shoulder and yanked him off the bed, sending him tumbling to the floor. “No, I won’t!” he yelled as he scrambled away--or tried to. Maul’s hand grabbed his leg and tugged him toward the center of the room. He yelped when Maul abruptly released him, and he quickly scrambled back again.

“Oh, Ezra.” Maul sounded disappointed, like he honestly thought Ezra cared what he thought. “You cannot fight forever. I am the only person you have left. Why will you not listen to me?”

“Because you’re a murderer, a kidnapper, and a Sith!” Ezra screamed back at him, keeping his hands up by his face to protect himself. “You murdered hundreds during the Clone Wars, enslaved the people of Mandalore, and now you’ve blinded and kidnapped me! Why would I listen to you? Everything I know about you tells me not to!”

Maul’s growl made him tense further, but the Zabrak didn’t come any closer. “Because you have no choice. I am the only one who can look after you now, with your… disability--”

“And whose fault is that?” Ezra demanded, interrupting Maul. He knew better than to let the Sith talk too much; he was a master of twisting words and sympathies until you pitied him, even though you knew he was the bad guy.

“Quiet, boy!” Maul snarled, then after a beat, added in his softer voice, “We will begin training in the morning. In the meantime…” Maul stepped closer and grabbed his arm. Ezra tensed the moment he felt Maul’s grip on him, but Maul simply grabbed the cuff and pulled it off.

Instantly, the Force washed over him, the familiar feeling nearly overpowering him as the awareness it gave him flooded back in. He gasped, feeling like he was drowning in the rush, but as the flood subsided, he sat back, going limp with relief. Going without the Force had been like cutting off a limb; having it back made his mind ache a bit from its absence, but it was worth it to have it back.

He jumped slightly as the door hissed open, then shut again, signaling Maul’s departure. Pushing his hair out of his face--and Force, he hadn’t even been here for two months and it was already brushing his shoulders--he shuffled forward, sitting in the center of the room. As he folded his legs beneath him, he extended his awareness, hoping he could remember what Kanan had taught him about using the Force to see.

He wasn’t actually sure when Kanan had taught him that technique. It wasn’t in the other timeline, when Kanan was blind, he knew that much. It might have been earlier in that timeline, or sometime in this one, he wasn’t sure. All he was sure of was what Kanan had said. 

_ “Trust the Force. Even when you're actually using your eyes, it'll tell you when and where to move. It's what lets us dodge and deflect blaster bolts. It will warn you of danger, even when you can't see it. You just have to listen.” _

So he listened to the Force, trying to get a feel for the room. He’d already figured out how big it was--about the size of a standard Imperial cell--but being able to feel it was reassuring. Six feet on either side, the metal walls boxed him in, the door a slight indentation in the opposite wall. His cot was the only obstruction he noticed right away, sitting squarely against the back wall. 

Using the Force to explore his surroundings was strange. It was like he was extending his mind to include the entire room, with rough shapes that indicated furniture and people--in this case, the bed and himself--standing out against the otherwise flat surfaces. It was almost like radar, a general sense of the size and shape of things but no details. Still, it was better than the perpetual blackness he’d been lost in before, and it was enough to tell him there was a small object hanging from the wall in one of the corners. After doing the equivalent of staring at it--really just running a tendril of Force energy over it over and over again--he realized it was a security camera.

Of course. Of course Maul would spy on him even when he was alone. And Ezra couldn’t even disarm it without letting Maul know he knew about it, and, of course, making it worse. Right now his goal was just to survive long enough to get away from Maul. He couldn’t do anything that might make that harder. If that meant eating and sleeping when Maul told him to, fine. If it meant letting Maul spy on him at all hours of the day, he’d put up with that. If it meant using a red lightsaber, he wouldn’t like it, but he’d do it. The one line he wouldn’t cross was using the Dark Side.

That was probably just as well. If he went along with everything Maul told him to do, Maul would know he was planning something. Maul was smart; if Ezra was going to escape, he had to be smarter. 

Sighing, he got up and went over to the bed, curling his lip as he registered the sick, pulsing signature of the lightsaber Maul had left by his pillow. Picking it up carefully, almost expecting it to burn his hand or explode or something, he turned it over once before tossing it to the side and collapsing on the bed.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d deal with that. Right now, he needed to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two soon. Also, these two chapters have doubled the word count. Seriously. Why. Why would the muse let me wite this many words here but not on the story I need to work on.  
> I need help, guys.


	5. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven. Kriffing. Thousand words. Seriously, with these two chapters, I, like, tripled my word count on this story.  
> In case anyone wants to know, I was listening to 'Journey Into the Star Cluster' from the season two soundtrack on repeat while writing the first section. It gave me an 'on the edge of my seat' feeling and I was writing the dang chapter. Seriously, I love Kevin Kiner's soundtrack.

He didn’t know how long he’d been here. It had to have been at least three months, maybe more? He had no way of knowing. If he’d been able to find a small piece of metal, he might have been able to scratch marks into the walls, but if he wasn’t able to see them, he could easily lose track of them, so what would have been the point?

Besides, he didn’t have a way of measuring the passage of time. He would have based it off of Maul’s visits, except that Maul didn’t visit every day, and sometimes he visited more than once a day. At least it felt like more than once, but he might have just been doing that to throw off Ezra’s sense of time. 

He would have based it off of the random attacks from droids that randomly leapt into his room and tried to take his head off, but they were just that: random. There was no telling how many times a day that happened.

He would have based it off of how long it had been since they’d switched bases. Maul was paranoid, and Ezra was fairly certain they had moved no less than half a dozen times, never stopping in the same place twice. He couldn’t base time off of those moves, though, because Maul seemed to choose random days to move to random places. They might spend weeks in one place or just a few days, Ezra had no way of knowing. 

He knew he needed to escape soon. Every time they stopped somewhere, Ezra tried to reach out, to connect to the environment so that he could figure out where in the galaxy they were so he’d at least have some idea of where to go once he escaped Maul, but somehow they were always far enough from civilization that he couldn’t feel any people or animals.

It was torture in the most excrutiating form. He didn’t know how long he’d been with Maul, or where he was, or when Maul would lose patience with him and actually, physically torture him. He just knew that the longer he was here, the greater chance there was that something bad had happened on the outside.

That was his real fear. He knew what the Rebellion had been up to during this time last time around, but without him there, any number of things could go wrong. Any number of people could have died, and it would be his fault for not being there. That was why he needed to escape; he could put up with anything Maul did to him but if he let the galaxy fall because he couldn’t get away he’d never forgive himself.

That was why he knew he was getting out today.

Currently, he was sitting, legs folded under him, on his bed, probably looking like he was meditating. They’d only gotten to this particular base a couple of days ago, so hopefully Maul would still be settling in, and wouldn’t expect him to try to escape just yet. Unfortunately, that also meant that Ezra wasn’t familiar with the layout of the base. Not that it would matter. He’d have to rely on the Force to guide him either way.

Stretching out his senses, he found the familiar hum of electricity in the corner facing his bed. Just to be certain, he scanned the rest of the room quickly before turning his attention back to the camera. His hands were trembling slightly--they’d have been full on shaking if he hadn’t had them wrapped tightly around the ‘saber Maul had given him, hidden under his blanket. He exhaled slowly, knowing that if he did this, there was no going back. If he didn’t make it out, Maul might kill him--or worse. This was do or die.

Tightening his mental grip on the camera, he yanked on it, pulling it out of its casing and sending it crashing to the floor. In an instant, he was on his feet, cutting through the door.  _ Danger, _ the Force warned, and he shoved the cut-out door out of place, sending it directly into the chests of the two droids standing guard.

He didn’t stop there, instantly casting his senses down the halls on either side of him. A small, insistent tugging pulled him to his right, away from a roiling darkness that suddenly erupted somewhere off to his left. Maul knew he had escaped.

With a burst of desperate speed, Ezra raced down the hall, the Force guiding him as he quickly jumped over a squealing mouse droid. A loud clanking behind him drew his attention to the familiar shapes of the assassin droids Maul used to guard his bases only a few hallways away. They were already in hot pursuit. 

With a grimace, Ezra turned a corner, reaching out through the Force and smashing all the cameras he could find in the hall. Skidding to a stop, Ezra ducked behind a bulkhead, pressing his back against it and holding his ‘saber to his chest as he held his breath. 

The droids turned the corner only a couple seconds later, barreling past his hiding place. With Maul’s eyes gone, they were having to hunt the old fashioned way, and that meant they made mistakes.

Ezra threw himself out of his hiding place with a warcry, slicing the closest droid in half. The others--three of them--instantly turned around. As they brought their weapons--electroblades, able to stop a lightsaber--up, Ezra cut one of their heads off, followed by another’s arm, before having to duck as the last droid finally attacked. Taking several quick steps back to avoid the droid’s furiously swung blade, Ezra dropped, sweeping the droid’s legs out from under him with a low kick before cutting the head off the one he’d disarmed and stabbing the droid he’d knocked down. It let out a cry that tapered off to a low groan as it died.

Ezra stood instantly. He didn’t know how many more droids Maul had but he knew they would all be trying to block his escape route. He couldn't stay in one place for too long. 

A series of loud clangs issued from the hall behind him, and Ezra felt a wave of  _ colddarkhate _ sweep over him. Maul was almost here. He had to go--now.

He was about to start dashing down the hall again, but the Force stopped him. The faint tugging that had been guiding him was now urging him… up? Glancing up, Ezra probed the ceiling and found a small grate, just big enough for him to squeeze through.

With a grimace, Ezra pulled the grate down, catching it before it clattered to the ground and launching himself up. Grabbing the lip of the vent, Ezra hauled himself in, pulling the grate in place right before several more droids rushed into the hall below him. Maul wasn’t there yet, fortunately, or he’d be able to tell where he went. 

Cloaking his presence in the Force, Ezra moved quietly through the vents, pausing every once in a while when he heard droids in the halls below him. He couldn’t risk being found. Of course, he also couldn’t risk Maul finding him, which meant he had to find his way through the vents with as little help from the Force as possible. He could only just feel it, a tug leading to an approximate location, but it wasn’t telling him how to get from where he was to where he needed to be anymore. He couldn’t risk that.

That meant navigating the vents without Force sight or regular sight, which meant sweeping a hand in front of him so that he didn’t bump into any walls or accidentally set his hands or knees on a grate opening and fall through. It was slow going, terrifyingly so. The longer he spent in the vents, the more frequently he heard the droids running around beneath him. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard he was surprised the droids couldn’t hear it. 

Once, he heard Maul talking only a few feet away from him, and he stopped dead in his tracks, his breath freezing in his throat. He’d be able to take the droids if they found him. He couldn’t take Maul, not on his worst day or Ezra’s best. Only when Maul moved on was Ezra able to breathe again.

Finally he came to a dead end. Cursing under his breath, he was about to turn around and back when he felt a small draft of air to his left. Cautiously, he reached out, sighing quietly in relief when his fingers brushed a grate. He’d found his way out.

Carefully, Ezra reached out with the Force, trying to get at least a vague idea of what the space outside his vent was like. What he got back was fuzzy, but he was fairly certain the mostly empty chamber with a high ceiling and no wall on the far side was a hanger. There were shapes lining the walls--most likely crates of some sort--but what drew his attention was the large shape in the middle of the room, which he had to guess was a ship. With any luck it’d be the  _ Nightbrother,  _ a ship he’d flown before. 

Ezra quietly removed the grate, setting it to the side before jumping silently out of the vent. Landing lightly, he crept up behind a stack of crates, taking a deep, slow breath to try to stop his hands from shaking. 

Maul wouldn’t leave the hanger unguarded. There had to be guards around here somewhere, but the moment Ezra tried to locate them, Maul would know exactly where he was. He’d have to be fast.

Adjusting his grip on his lightsaber, Ezra took one last deep breath before sending a quick pulse out into the room. Instantly he felt Maul’s presence, the cold trying to attack him even from halfway across the base. He wasn’t here yet, but several droids were. Maybe a dozen stood at the foot of the ramp to the  _ Nightbrother,  _ while about twenty more stood by the door to the hanger.

He jumped out of cover, throwing the droids by the door back with a wave of his hand. As they smashed into the wall, Ezra leapt at the remaining droids, igniting his ‘saber with a vicious cry. 

The first few didn’t stand much of a chance. He was so close now, he could almost taste it--he wasn’t about to let these stupid droids keep him away from his family. They couldn’t. He wouldn’t let them. 

With another cry, he grabbed three more droids, lifting them into the air and crushing them with the Force, a sickeningly familiar cold leaking into his veins as he tossed them aside. Whirling around, he started hacking the remaining droids to pieces, snarling as they tried to run or fight back.

A low chuckle echoed from the doorway as the last droid fell. “Well done, Apprentice. Very well done.”

Ezra stiffened. How had he not noticed Maul coming in? He should have--the cold should have let him know. Probing the Force, Ezra felt the blood drain out of his face when he realized why he hadn’t felt it. He couldn’t feel it over the cold in his own presence. 

He’d done exactly what he’d told himself he wouldn’t. He’d used the Dark Side.

A metallic footstep behind him reminded him that he couldn’t stop now. Reaching desperately for the familiar warmth, Ezra threw his mind back to lessons with Kanan, making dinner with Hera, painting with Sabine, fighting with Zeb--anything warm and happy and good. The Light responded, and Ezra felt the chill subside somewhat. 

That would have to do. Forcing an exhale, Ezra turned, throwing himself at Maul. The Zabrak had his lightsaber out in a split second, effortlessly blocking Ezra’s quick attacks. Ezra tried to catch him by surprise, throwing kicks and punches in between his strikes and slashes, but nothing fazed Maul. The Sith just ducked, sidestepped or blocked every blow Ezra sent his way.

This was why Ezra had wanted to avoid fighting Maul at any cost. The moment he’d engaged, he knew he was going to lose. There was simply no way he could beat him, not alone. But he was alone--there was no one he could turn to to help him fight Maul. So he was going to lose.

With a desperate push, Ezra broke a ‘saber lock and Force shoved Maul back, turning on his heel instantly and racing toward the  _ Nightbrother. _ If he couldn’t beat Maul, he had to run.

He made it halfway up the ramp before he suddenly couldn’t move at all. He squirmed, trying uselessly to get out of Maul’s Force grip. His lightsaber was ripped from his grasp seconds before Maul flung him to the side like a rag doll. He hit the ground hard, a gasp escaping him as he tried to pull himself back up. Maul just grabbed him again with the Force, tossing him against the wall this time, and Ezra felt ribs crack as he slammed into the unyielding metal.

“Did you really think you could get away from me that easily?” Maul almost purred, his voice dripping oily anger as he stalked menacingly forward.

Ezra managed to get up to his knees, wrapping one arm around his chest as he threw out his hand, sending out a laughably weak telekinetic wave. 

Maul chuckled, now just a few feet away from Ezra. “No, my young apprentice, you will find me a difficult person to lose.”

Ezra tensed as Maul’s signature wrapped around his body again, but before he could fight back or say anything, Maul slammed him back against the wall. His last thought before he passed out was,  _ ‘I failed.’ _

**_______**

Ezra gritted his teeth, trying not to yell in exertion as he tried to push Maul’s blade back. The Zabrak was much stronger than him, though, and forced him back. Panting, Ezra raised his blade, trying to get a lock on Maul, but the twisting, writhing cold of the Dark Side was too distracting, making it hard to get a read of the room.

Maul’s attack came suddenly from his side, knocking his ‘saber away as the Zabrak kicked his feet out from under him. Ezra landed hard on his back. With a groan, he pushed himself up on his elbows, shutting off his lightsaber. He could feel the heat and hear the hum of the ‘saber held inches from his throat, so there was no reason to try to keep fighting this round. Maul had told him, again and again, if he fell, he was dead. Still, he scowled as he waited for Maul to move the blade so he could get back up.

Maul made a frustrated sound as he switched off his lightsaber. “I had hoped some of my lessons would have stuck by now.”

Ezra pushed himself to his feet, glaring as best he could in Maul’s direction. “Your ‘lessons’ are just you beating me with a lightsaber till I fall down. Not like that’s going to teach me much.”

Maul growled. He’d been getting more and more annoyed as time went on and Ezra refused to give in to the frustration the endless beatings gave him. With his previous experiences with the Dark Side, it was easier to resist the temptation of giving in, but that didn’t mean it was easier to bear the punishments Maul doled out.

“You simply refuse to learn,” Maul said, and Ezra could feel his anger writhing, barely controlled, sending frigid waves through the Force. “The beatings will stop when you embrace your abilities--all of them.”

Ezra scoffed, wanting to cross his arms, but not wanting to make it harder to draw his weapon. He kept his hands at his sides instead. “No.”

“You have done it before, you can do it again. You will give in eventually,” Maul sounded like he was trying to sound certain, but it came out more like a threat. “Why do you keep fighting?”

“Because I don’t know how to die quietly,” Ezra quipped back, but he wasn’t smiling, smirking, or even remotely kidding. He knew his choices were keep fighting or die. What Maul wanted, he would never do. Not again. 

Maul seemed to sense what he was thinking. “They will never come for you.” Ezra tightened his hold on the ‘saber in his hand, ignoring the pang in his heart. “They have abandoned you, left you to die. Why fight me when you should be fighting them? They are the ones who betrayed you, cast you off the moment you were no longer useful…”

Ezra barked a laugh. “No they didn’t. They never betrayed me, and they never will. Stop trying to turn me against them, you won’t get anywhere.”

Maul sighed. “I wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness, especially since you seem so determined to die.”

“Well, I just don’t like one of my other options, and you don’t like the other, so that seems to be the only compromise.”

“Compromise,” Maul nearly spat the word, derision dripping from his tone. “Only the Jedi were foolish enough to believe that tactic would work. And where are they now?” Maul slowly stalked forward, and Ezra took an unconscious step back, easing his weight forward onto his toes as the Force whispered  _ danger, danger _ . “Dead, all of them, just leaving a few poorly trained children and their weak masters to preserve their rotten traditions and deluded principles. Their precious Code will not save you now, Ezra. It is useless. The  _ Light  _ is useless. Anger is stronger. Wrath is more powerful. Rage is more devastating. And if you do not realize this, you will soon end up just. Like. The rest of the Jedi.”

As Maul spoke, Ezra carefully shifted his ‘saber, switching it to the reverse hold that Ahsoka was so fond of, tensing as he waited for something to happen. Maul was just a couple feet in front of him, his breath hissing audibly from between his teeth as he ignited his lightsaber. 

_ Move, _ the Force whispered, and Ezra ducked as Maul suddenly swung downwards. Instead of blocking, he stepped inside Maul’s guard. Aiming the lightsaber’s emitter at Maul’s chest, he ignited it for a split second before rolling away, something landing on the floor with a thud as he came up in a crouch, waiting for the Force to tell him to move again.

Nothing happened. The room was deadly quiet, not even the hum of a lightsaber or creaking of Maul’s prosthetic legs. Even the air was still. Ezra stayed frozen where he was, not even daring to breathe as he cast his senses out and tried to get an idea of what had happened.

He knew the training room in front of him was a large room, pillars supporting the ceiling every few yards. He was expecting the racks of weapons lining the walls and the half a dozen or so dismantled droids on the floor. He wasn’t expecting the inanimate lump on the floor where he’d been standing only a few seconds before.

Carefully, he probed the lump with the Force, not daring to get close enough to actually touch it. It didn’t move. The cold, dark cloud that had hung around it for as long as he could remember was slowly but surely dissipating, leaving only a faint impression of pain and anger behind.

He edged closer, nudging the body with his foot. No reaction. Dropping his ‘saber, Ezra fell to his knees, turning Maul over onto his back so he could jam his fingers into the pulsepoint on his neck.

Nothing. No pulse, not even a slight thrum. Maul was still.

A sob escaped Ezra’s throat, and he clamped a hand over his mouth. He sat back, wanting to cry with relief, but not quite believing it yet. Maul had been a spectre haunting him for years now, he couldn’t just be gone like  _ that. _ It could be a trick, a trap--Ezra grabbed his ‘saber and scrambled over to one of the corners, pressing his back against the solid duracrete wall like it would protect him. He held his ‘saber in front of him, waiting for something to attack him.

Still, nothing moved. His pulse pounded in his ears as he waited for Maul to suddenly start breathing again, to get up, to launch himself at Ezra with a flurry of punishing blows. But nothing happened. 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in that corner--it could have been hours or minutes or even days. He ached both from the fight and from being crouched in the corner, but he was too scared to move. The room was so quiet he could hear the faint hum of the lights and every tiny air current that hissed softly as it left the ventilation system. The loudest sound was his breathing; everytime it hitched he flinched, even though he could feel it catching in his throat and knew what the change was. 

Finally, he pulled himself up to his feet, ignoring how his knees locked and his hands shook. Sticking to the walls, he carefully edged around the room to the door. The moment he stumbled into the threshold, he whirled around, forcing the door open and slipping through as quickly as he could. He slowly backed away from the door. He wanted so badly to turn and run, but he couldn’t turn his back on the door. Maul was in that room, turning his back would be suicide. 

His back suddenly hit the wall, and he realized he’d been paying so much attention to the door he’d forgotten to check his surroundings. Panicked, he sent out a shockwave through the Force instead of the usual pulse, but there was no sound of droids slamming against walls. Hesitantly, he sent out an actual pulse.

He was alone, standing at an intersection in a hallway with a low ceiling. There were no droids nearby, no life signatures. Nothing. Even the room on the other side of the door came back empty. 

Slowly, he let his hands fall to his sides, an exhausted sob escaping him before he mentally shook himself. He couldn’t fall apart here, not now. This was his chance. He had to get away now.

But he hesitated. Last time he’d tried to escape (how long ago had that been? Weeks? Months? Years? He didn’t know) the punishment had been awful. He hadn’t been able to move for ages, hadn’t been able to scream because his voice had worn out, hadn’t been able to fight back because he was exhausted and starving. If Maul caught him trying to escape again, how much worse would it be?

_ No, _ he told himself,  _ he can’t hurt me anymore. He’s dead. _

The thought made the breath freeze in his lungs. Maul was dead. He was dead, and he couldn’t hurt Ezra again. He couldn’t keep him from leaving. He was  _ gone. _

A hysterical laugh bubbled out of his mouth and he collapsed to the floor, the tension flooding out of his body now that he finally knew it was safe. He was safe. Reaching out, he tried to find Kanan’s mind, knowing he had to be out there in the galaxy somewhere. If he could find him, Kanan could get him out of here, and he could go home. Carefully folding his legs under him, he sank into the Force, probing it as he tried to find anything resembling a familiar mind.

No luck. Still, he tried not to feel discouraged. He could definitely feel people somewhere on the planet, and if there were people, there were ships, so he could find his way home. He was probably just too far away from Kanan to feel him.

It hurt, not being able to reconnect with his Master. Their bond wasn’t broken, at least not on his end, it had just been dangling, sort of like a mooring line that had been severed. Actually, that was a good analogy for how he felt: unmoored. But it wasn’t as bad as it had been after Kanan had died, so he forced himself to focus on a plan instead.

After all, he had places to be.

**_______**

Ezra pulled the scarf tighter around his head before ducking out of the transport. The passenger cruiser hadn’t been uncomfortable, exactly, but he was eager to get off of it and onto the familiar planet. His breath hitched behind the mask he’d found in Maul’s base as he heard Stormtroopers checking passengers’ IDs, and he carefully nudged their minds away from him as he ducked out of the hanger and into Capital City.

Adjusting the small pack he had slung over his shoulder, Ezra walked through the city, relying on a combination of memory and infrequent sweeps with the Force to guide him. He managed to avoid the ‘trooper patrols until he got to his destination: the burnt-out husk of an old home.

Sending a quick pulse through the Force to make sure no one and nothing were watching, Ezra clambered down the ladder into the basement, which was only slightly less ruined than the rest of the house, but it made for a good pit stop.

Sighing, he sat down and opened his pack. He didn’t really have much with him, just the clothes Maul had given him, the lightsaber he had tucked away at the bottom of the bag, and some rations he’d liberated from an Imperial shipment on Corelia. Well, and the mask/vocoder combination he’d grabbed to disguise both his face and the fact that he was navigating perfectly despite being down a pair of eyes.

Not the best place to start, but not the worst. It’d more than make do until he got to Ryder’s base, that was for sure. Of course, he just had to hope that Ryder’s base was in the same place, otherwise he’d have to head to Jhothal and get Old Jho to take him to Ryder, and that would add time and complications to his plan. He needed as few people as possible to know he was alive, at least until he was back home. Once Kanan and the others were there, they could figure out their next steps together. 

He smiled faintly at the thought of going home. It had been so long since he’d been on the  _ Ghost, _ but he could still remember every detail, every chip in the paint, every dent in the floor, every rip in the upholstery that Ezra and Zeb both swore wasn’t their fault. Force, he missed it. He missed  _ them.  _

Sighing, he leaned back against the wall, pulling the scarf down and taking off the mask so he could rub his face. He didn’t remember the last time he’d been this tired. He hadn’t so much as closed his eyes since he’d left Maul’s base. He’d been too keyed up on the ship to Corelia, and too wary on the shuttle to Lothal. He could probably sleep now, the Force was telling him he was safe here, but he knew if he let himself sleep, he’d have trouble mustering the will to get moving again come morning.

With a groan he pulled himself up to his feet, stumbling slightly as he got to the ladder. Steeling himself, he pulled the mask back on and pulled himself back up to street level.

It took him a bit to find an unguarded speeder, and a bit longer to find the tracker that was now built into all Imperial speeders. He had to admit that it was a bit gratifying to see the Empire taking steps to prevent the rebels from stealing their equipment, but it was still annoying to have to then go to the trouble of removing it.

He left the city as the sun set, its last rays warm on his back as he sped out onto the road through the grasslands. The roadways were quiet, so he was careful not to go too fast so as not to draw too much attention, but he was still in a hurry. He was almost safe, the nightmare was almost over. He needed to get there,  _ now _ . 

The Force tugged at the edge of his mind, guiding him off the road and into the grasslands proper. He raced over the whispering blades of grass, letting the Force guide even the subtle movements of his hands. He drove for hours, probably. It was difficult to keep track of time. The last warmth of the sun had long since faded when he felt a familiar though primal mind in the plains.

Slowing his approach, Ezra sent out a pulse, grinning when he heard the mewl of the white Loth-cat that liked to hang around Ryder. Finally, some proof he was going in the right direction. Reaching out, both with his hand and with the Force, he gently pressed the idea of  _ guide me _ on the Loth-cat’s mind. With another soft mewl, the Loth-cat took off, and Ezra followed, hot on its heels.

He stopped the speeder when he felt stone towers rise ahead of him. If the rebels here on Lothal heard a speeder approach, they’d come out blasters ready, which wouldn’t make for a very good first impression. Better to approach slowly but non-threateningly.

Swinging off of the speeder, Ezra left his pack--including the lightsaber--attached to the speeder and made his way into the cluster of towering mounds that the Loth-cat had scampered into. He’d lost sight of his furry friend, but he wasn’t too concerned. It had brought him as close as it needed to.

He made sure to keep his pace and posture calm and non-threatening as he slowly walked into the cluster. Carefully, he reached out with his senses, trying to establish where exactly the rebels were, and was almost pleased when the Force immediately responded by tugging him in the direction of the half-a-dozen or so minds he could feel on the other side of the cluster.

He picked up the pace a bit, jogging as he rounded a mound. He knew he should be more careful--and he really should have brought at least a blaster, but he didn’t want the rebels thinking he was there to attack them--but he was so close now,  _ so close-- _

The Force screamed in warning and Ezra skidded to a halt, twisting to one side so the sniper’s blaster bolt missed his head by an inch, slamming into the ground behind him. Immediately, Ezra ducked behind the closest mound, trying to calm his racing heart. He hadn’t even noticed the sniper.

Reaching out carefully, he felt the blaster rifle, every inch of it suddenly detailed in his mind. It took a bit of effort, but he managed to force the energy pack to eject before turning his attention to the sniper himself. As muffled curses floated from the top of the mound the sniper was on, Ezra stiffened. 

Oh, no wonder this was familiar. He’d lived through this part before--twice. The first time, Ryder had told Ezra his parents were dead. The second time, Ryder had told him his parents had gotten separated in the escape, and he had to assume they’d been killed. Those situations had exactly one thing in common with the one he found himself in now: Ryder Azadi was taking pot-shots at him.

“Ryder?” He called, not daring to peak his head around the mound. Not that it would do anything other than make him a convenient target. “Ryder Azadi?”

Another curse and the sound of a rifle being primed echoed down. “Whoever you are, come out with your hands on your head. Now.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Can you promise not to shoot me if I do?”

“No,” Ryder said bluntly.

Ezra banged the back of his head against the mound. This was not how he’d wanted this to go. With a soft curse, he pulled the helmet off his head, letting the scarf fall around his neck. He probably looked awful, he knew his hair was too long, but honestly that wasn’t his biggest problem. He’d hoped he could convince Ryder that he was Fulcrum so that he would call the  _ Ghost  _ here. He’d wanted to tell his family first. But with Ryder being so trigger happy, he wasn’t sure he’d walk out of here with his head intact without letting Ryder in on the secret.

“Ryder, please,” he called, hoping Ryder would recognize his voice now that the vocoder wasn’t in the way. “It’s me, I need to talk to you.”

Almost immediately, Ezra felt Ryder’s disbelief. Good, he did recognize his voice. The disbelief was very quickly replaced with anger, grief, and… pain? Ouch. He hadn’t even thought about what this must have been like for Ryder. Also, very much not good. 

“How dare you.” Quiet though it was, Ryder’s steely voice managed to carry across the small clearing between their respective mounds. “How dare you pretend to be the son of my friends.”

“I’m not--” Ezra started, but Ryder cut him off.

“Ezra Bridger’s been dead for six months, don’t try to tell me otherwise! You aren’t him! You don’t have the right to use his voice--!”

“I called you X-10.” Ezra interrupted, and Ryder went dead silent. He could still feel him, though, and he knew he still didn’t believe him, so he kept going. “The first time we met. I didn’t know your name. We followed you from the market. We didn’t tell you we were Jedi at first, you only found out when Kanan cut the legs off an AT-AT. You didn’t want to help at first, it was only after we managed to steal the Corvettes that you agreed to help us. Ryder, I swear, it’s me.”

The longer he talked, the more Ezra could feel Ryder’s certainty and his anger drain away, leaving disbelief and… fear? He wasn’t quite sure what it was, just that he didn’t like it.

It took a minute for Ryder to respond. When he did, his voice was shaking. “Ezra?” The faint sounds of the rifle being set aside, and the Force sighed with relief now that he wasn’t in danger. “Ezra Bridger?”

“That’s me,” Ezra said, forcing some fake cheer into his voice. Ordinarily the cheekiness would have come naturally, but right now he was tired. Tired from the frantic flight from Maul’s base to Corelia to Lothal, tired from the last six months being held captive, tired from the frustration of living the last four years all over again. He didn’t have the energy to do more than pretend.

“Any chance I can come out now without you putting one between my eyes?” Ezra continued, shaking off the darker thoughts.

Ryder was silent for a minute before the sound of something skidding down rock told Ezra that Ryder was now at ground-level. Ezra slowly came around the mound, letting the helmet dangle from his hand as he cast out his senses to get a good lock on Ryder’s location. He was moving toward him, only about ten feet away now. Close enough that he should be able to see that Ezra couldn’t.

Ryder stopped suddenly, the Force around him singing with disbelief and… oh. That fear from earlier was turning into a strange mixture of hope and grief. The hope at least made sense, it was the opposite of fear after all, but grief? Ryder could see that he was very much not dead now, so why grief?

“Ezra?” Ryder’s voice was shaking badly, and Ezra gave him a quick but tired grin.

“Hey. Been a while. How’re you? How’ve things been?” He had to wince at his attempt at small talk, but it seemed to break Ryder out of his stupor.

With an incredulous laugh that borderlined a sob, Ryder closed the distance between them. Instantly, Ezra flinched, only relaxing slightly when he realized that Ryder was hugging him, not trying to hurt him. Once he got over how much he was not expecting Ryder to hug him, he let himself relax further, almost slumping against Ryder’s chest as he finally had someone who he knew was safe. Who he knew wasn’t going to hurt him.

Ryder took him going slightly limp as a bad sign, though, and instantly stepped back, keeping his hands on his shoulders. “Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Oh, right. It was night time. Even in the day, the shadows between the mounds were hard to see in. If it was night, the moons might provide some light, but not enough for Ryder to be able to see the scars.

Ezra shrugged. “Ribs are a bit tender, but almost everything else has already healed as much as it’s going to. I’m fine. Just--” he cut himself off with a large yawn “--tired. It’s been a long…”

Day. Year. Life. Honestly, any of those would be a good choice.

“Six months,” Ryder supplied, and Ezra looked up, question clear on his face. “You’ve been gone six months. Kanan and Hera told me you were dead, so how…?”

Ezra sighed, brushing the hair out of his face and looking down at the ground. “I got stupid. Almost got dead. Ended up getting kidnapped by a psychopath.”

Ryder didn’t seem particularly bothered by his broken sentences. “And you’re sure you’re fine?”

Ezra didn’t say anything for a second, stepping back a few steps and hugging himself as he debated how to answer. Ryder stepped forward, concern hanging around him like a suffocating cloud, and Ezra knew he couldn’t put it off forever. “I can’t see,” Ezra said softly. 

Ryder didn’t understand what he meant immediately. “What do you mean? It’s not that dark, why can’t--”

Ezra cut him off quickly. “I’m blind, Ryder.” Stunned silence. Ezra shuffled his feet, explaining, “That’s why I couldn’t escape sooner. He-he blinded me. I literally can’t see.”

Ryder stepped a bit closer, and Ezra had to fight every instinct not to rest his head against Ryder again. Force, he was tired. He wanted someone else to take the lead for a bit, he was exhausted from constantly having to be on top of things. He’d been afraid that he would flinch at the idea of human contact, even after six months on his own, but aside from the initial flinch, he mostly hadn’t. That was a relief. He could only imagine the looks on the Spectres’ faces if he flinched back from the inevitable hugs.

A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts, and Ezra stiffened. He had no idea how bad the scar looked, but if it looked as bad as Kanan’s had, then it definitely wasn’t pretty. He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to see it yet. Ryder’s other hand carefully brushed away the hair on his face, not giving Ezra much of a choice as to whether he let someone see it. The Force directed his gaze up a bit, and he felt Ryder’s hands shake slightly as the man shuddered.

“Oh, Force…” the man muttered, sounding horrified. “Ezra…”

Ezra stepped back again, shuddering as he tried to put some distance between himself and Ryder. As much as he was glad for the human contact, the pity in Ryder’s voice made his stomach turn. 

“How did you even find us?” Ryder asked softly.

Ezra shrugged. “The Force. I’ve had to get pretty good at navigating with it.”

He could practically feel Ryder’s scowl. “When did he do that to you?”

“When he kidnapped me.”

“And your ribs? How long ago was that?” Ryder’s voice shook slightly.

Ezra shrugged again. “Doesn’t really matter.”

“Of course it matters, Ezra, he hurt you. You can’t see, people make you nervous--don’t think I didn’t see you flinch--and your ribs are hurt. Kriff--we need to get you to a medic.”

Ezra shook his head vehemently. “No, no medics. No one else finds out I’m alive until Kanan and Hera are here. We tell them next.”

The sound of boots scuffing against stone. Ryder was shuffling his feet slightly. “There’s a bit of a problem with that.” 

Instantly Ezra’s stomach dropped, and he could feel the blood draining out of his face. “They’re okay, right?”

“Last I heard, yeah. But that’s the problem: we haven’t been able to contact anyone for five months, our communication equipment was destroyed. There’s not even anything left to repair, we literally can’t contact them.”

Ezra shouldn’t have felt relief that their communication equipment was destroyed, but his knees still nearly gave out as Ryder spoke. That was vastly better than the alternative, and easily fixable.

“Why don’t you just steal what you need from the Imperials?”

“Because their equipment is all hooked up to the Imperial broadcast system. Even if we encrypt it, they’ll be able to track it. We can’t disconnect it from the system, so they’d be able to track any transmission to our allies. Trust me, Ezra, we’ve thought about it.”

Ezra groaned, pressing his back against the mound he’d hid behind earlier and sliding down so that he was sitting on the ground. Rubbing his face, though he was careful to avoid the scar on his eyes, he muttered, “this is a mess.”

“Hey,” Ryder said, suddenly at Ezra’s level again. “We’ll figure it out.” Ezra hummed, but didn’t say anything. “In the meantime,” Ryder continued after a minute, “I know you don’t want to tell the rest of the resistance here about you, but maybe fill me in on some details? We all thought you were dead.” 

Ezra winced at the reminder. “Yeah, I figured. I’m sorry.” With a grunt he got his feet under him, then Ryder grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “Thanks. Fill you in tomorrow? I haven’t actually slept in days.”

Ryder was quiet for a split second, long enough for Ezra to glance over at him worriedly. Immediately, Ryder said, “Yes, that’s fine. Sorry. Forgot you couldn’t see me nod.”

“It’s okay, Ryder. I need to figure out how to tell when someone does something like that. Oh, and before I forget--” Ezra pushed the mask back onto his face, winding the scarf around his head again “--no names please.”

“Right.” Ryder sounded skeptical. “So who exactly am I supposed to tell them I’m leading right into our secret camp?”

Ezra cocked his head for a second, thinking. He needed a codename if he was going to pull off what he was planning, but right now, he was too tired. So he went for something simple but true.

“A friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take great pleasure in killing Maul every time he shows up in one of my stories. Seriously, he's a great character, but I hate his guts.  
> Also, the bit with Ryder was supposed to be shorter, but then I was going back over the comments you guys have left (I keep all of them and go back and read them when I need a kick in the pants about writing) and someone had mentioned a plot hole so I had to fill it. And now that part is twice as long as I meant it to be. But yay, more words.


	6. Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Literally pounded this out in about two and a half hours, so I thought I'd give you all a little bonus. This takes place very shortly after The Shadow of Your Smile, and after the first couple of chapters of And the Space You Leave Behind. In the show's chronology, it's during s3e3, The Antilles Extraction.

For Ezra, waking up from a nightmare was never a sit-bolt-upright-with-a-scream type of thing. It was more of a, come-out-of-it-slowly-and-panic-because-you-can’t-tell-if-it-was-real-or-not type thing. That meant he never had to worry about accidentally waking his roommate, but it also meant there was no abrupt transition to assure him that he had, in fact, been dreaming.

His eyes fluttered open to pitch darkness, but he could still feel Maul’s lingering presence. Realizing he was lying down, he instantly lurched to his feet. Maul couldn’t catch him with his guard down, he couldn’t--

He hit the ground hard, wincing as his knees slammed into the metal beneath him. The drop had been greater than he’d expected. Hearing Maul’s unmistakable footstep from the hall outside of whatever room he was in, he scrambled back until he hit a wall and curled up there, holding his arms in front of him to try to protect himself.

His breathing was too noisily, his heart thumping traitorously loudly in his chest. He clamped a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds--it was so dark, Maul would be using hearing to find him so he couldn’t make noise. He jumped when he heard a soft keening sound, only to realize that he was making it.

Why was it so dark? There wasn’t even any light from a doorway. He must have a blindfold on, Maul must not want him to be able to see. Quickly Ezra went to pull it off, but froze when his hand brushed scar tissue.

Oh, right. He was blind. Maul had blinded him this time around, not Kanan.

_Kanan._

Fear froze the blood in his veins and he forgot to breathe. The image of Maul shoving his lightsaber through Kanan’s chest as his Master--his _dad_ \--screaming in agony burned in his mind, and he felt the bile in his stomach rising. That hadn’t happened last time, but he couldn’t remember if it had actually happened this time or if he was imagining it or if he was seeing what was about to happen.

Grabbing a mental hold of their bond, he yanked his end open, pouring his fear and desperation into it, hoping against hope that Kanan would answer.

Silence. His side of their bond was _darkquietstill_ dead. 

No, nononono--he couldn’t be dead, not again. Ezra tried to scream, but his voice caught in his throat and he choked. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Ezra carefully made himself slow down. His thoughts were racing out of control. He was panicking and he knew it, but he couldn’t figure out what was real or not real if he couldn’t think.

Clenching his jaw, Ezra focused on the bond. It was intact, not shattered the way it had been after Kanan had died the first time around, but when Ezra tried to reach him, he ran into a durasteel wall, the type the two had learned to throw up when one was on a mission without the other.

Right. The mission. Kanan was babysitting Sabine’s undercover op at Skystrike Academy. With a shaking breath, Ezra let himself relax. Kanan could handle that mission, Sabine had been forewarned about the attempt to root out deserters. Hopefully she’d listen.

Hauling himself to his feet, Ezra carefully sent out a pulse through the Force, trying to get his bearings. He was further into the middle of the room than he thought he’d been. Not that it really mattered. He still would have found his way to the table he’d set his belt and other equipment on.

Grabbing his commlink, he hesitated, not wanting to interrupt if Kanan was actually in the middle of a fight. There was every possibility, and if Ezra distracted him… he shuddered at the memory of how badly the cruiser had been damaged last time around and he almost set the commlink back down. The memory of the surprised look on Kanan’s face as Maul skewered him made him tighten his grip on it, though, and he was calling Kanan’s frequency before he could talk himself out of it.

_“Hey, kid. Thought you’d be in bed by now.”_

Kanan’s familiar voice, even with the static thrown in, instantly made Ezra relax. Managing a half-hearted smile, he leaned his back against the wall, hoping the casualness of the pose would bleed into his voice. “Yeah, sorry. If you’re in the middle of something, I can call back later--”

Kanan cut him off. _“No, you’re fine. Here, let me just--”_ Ezra heard what sounded like movement followed by a door sliding shut _“--alright, I’m off the bridge. What’s up?”_

“Nothing, I just… I had a nightmare,” Ezra admitted in a rush. “You died. Maul. I woke up and I couldn’t remember if it actually happened or…” His voice died and he sniffed. He was pretty sure if his tear ducts were still intact, he’d be having to wipe away rogue tears.

Kanan’s voice from the other side of the comm was soft. _“I’m okay, Ezra. I promise. He’s gone anyway, he can’t hurt either of us. We’re safe.”_

“I know, I just… it felt really _real,_ and then I woke up and I forgot you were on a mission, so I….”

_“You panicked,”_ Kanan finished for him. There was no judgement in his voice, something Ezra was grateful for but not surprised by. _“It’s okay, kiddo. I get them, too.”_

“Really?” Ezra asked, giving the commlink a quizzical look.

_“Yeah. I keep waking up thinking you’re still dead and I imagined all of this. So trust me, I’ve been there. It’ll get better, though.”_

As he spoke, the shielding on Kanan’s end of the bond thinned a bit, enough that Ezra could feel his mind much more easily. With a relieved sigh, Ezra slid to the floor, crossing his legs beneath him as he closed his eyes. Except for the commlink in his hand, he probably looked like he was meditating.

“Yeah,” he said softly. Taking a deep breath--and relieved when it only shook a little bit--he shook himself. “How’s the mission going?”

Kanan understood the underlying request for a distraction. _“Okay, mostly. The Imps tried that thing we warned Sabine about, but thankfully neither she nor the recruits fell for it, so as far as I know, all of them still have their cover intact, though I think we have a friend down there helping with that.”_

Ezra grinned at the playful tone Kanan used at the last phrase, because it would never not be funny that they had known who Kallus actually was and who he was going to be for the couple of years he was actively working against them. In fact, the lengths they’d gone to to keep him alive at times always made him laugh to think about.

“Hey,” Ezra started, “Remember that time when we were supposed to be protecting Gall Trayvis and Kallus attacked, then Sabine went after him and I tripped her?”

_“Yeah,”_ Kanan chuckled. _“Was that intentional?”_

“Well, I couldn’t let her accidentally kill Fulcrum, now could I?” Ezra said, and they both laughed.

_“Oh, I can’t wait to see her face when she figures it out.”_

“Yeah, it was pretty good last time. Seriously, if it’s anything like that this time around, you’ll want a holorecorder. It’ll be great for blackmail later.”

Kanan muttered a soft curse. _“Sorry, I totally forgot. That was insensitive.”_

“Dad, it’s fine, I’m not offended or anything,” Ezra said, then froze. _Kark._ “Anyway, I should go. It’s still late and I need to sleep.” Ezra said quickly before disconnecting. Running a hand over his face--which was undoubtedly completely red now--he groaned.

He’d just called Kanan Dad. Oh, Force, that was embarrassing. Kanan was going to do one of two things next time he saw him: embarrass him to death or pretend it didn’t happen. Or very gently pull him aside and remind Ezra that he had a dad. Ephraim Bridger was still alive this time around. So, one of three things, but no matter what happened, it was going to be so awkward. 

Setting the comm on the table next to him, he buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe he just said that.

** _______ **

Kanan couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He knew Ezra looked up to him, respected him, loved him, but he had been pretty sure that aside from that time on Empire Day and right after Ezra had hopped back in time, Ezra wouldn’t ever actually call him Dad. After all, this time around, Ephraim Bridger was still alive, so in his mind, Ezra had a dad. He wouldn’t want Kanan trying to fill that role.

He was pretty sure there was a ridiculous smile spreading across his face, but he didn’t really care. Tucking the commlink back into his belt, he went back into the bridge, resolving to hug Ezra the minute they got back. 

Rex looked up as he entered. They’d both been making efforts to work out their issues since Ezra had gotten back, but this was the first mission that neither Ahsoka or Hera had come along with them on to babysit. “Was that Ezra?”

“Yeah,” Kanan said as he sank into the captain’s chair, still grinning. 

Rex raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Kanan repeated. “They’re all safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story time: my sister called my earlier and told me she'd had a nightmare the night before. She woke up crying because I'd died in a car accident in the dream. I love her to death... which is a bit of a poor choice of words, but it's true.  
> Anyway, that gave me this idea. I hope you liked it!


End file.
